Crouching by the road, Matt turned to his daughter. “How do you want to play this?”
“You cause a diversion; I go around back and search the kitchen for any food.”
Matt wasn’t thrilled with the idea of stealing, but they were both on the verge of starving and they needed to eat and rest. “OK, but no one gets hurt. You just take enough for the two of us.”
“Trust me, I did this for a long time when I was on my own. I know how to move unnoticed.”
Matt took a deep breath and stood. “Let’s go.”
Matt moved through a field of foot-long grass until he approached the front porch of the old farmhouse. Thin wisps of smoke could now be seen curling from the chimney, which had been obscured from their position on the road. Someone was home.
Ally broke away from Matt, stealthily moving low through the trees, making her way to the rear of the property.
The single-story farmhouse was rundown, constructed out of a mishmash of wood paneling and blue drywall. It gave Matt the impression it was built sometime in the twentieth century – possibly during the Soviet era. While the paranoia of the Cold War was long gone, they still had to be careful when dealing with the locals. This part of Europe was remote and still very much steeped in traditional folklore and superstition. Naturally, the locals would be wary of outsiders.
Before knocking, Matt gingerly peered through the nearest window.
A single bulb dangled from the low ceiling, exposing a room that was no more than a basic shack. Some of the paneling had been stripped from the walls, and the odd scattering of broken furniture had been taken for firewood. Some of it was piled loosely on a mantle. In the middle of the room was a wooden table, strewn with chipped plates and dirty cutlery. An empty bottle of Tzuika, a traditional Romanian spirit prepared from plums, sat upright next to an ashtray that was filled to the brim with cigarette stubs. It was obvious that whoever lived here was old and alone.
Before knocking, Matt took a moment to compose himself by straightening his jacket collar and brushing snow from it. He then wrapped firmly on the door. After a few seconds, he heard movement inside. There was a soft fumbling, followed by lurching footsteps on creaky wood.
The door swung open and a gnarled old man appeared. He was somewhere around early eighties, frail and thin, wearing a traditional Kalderash shirt with quilted trousers. It was dark, but Matt could make out the three tattoos on his right arm: a cluster of ornate roses, the Northern Star, and a Medieval minstrel. He seemed more surprised by the fact that he had a visitor, as opposed to Matt’s somewhat militant appearance. “Da,” he croaked. “Va pot ajuta?”
Matt smiled as convincingly as he could. “Ah, so sorry to disturb you, sir. But do you know the way to Breb?”
The old man shook his head, pointing to his right side. “Nu. Breb. Breb.”
“Yes, Breb. The town.” Matt followed his direction. “That way, right?”
“Da, da. Breb, Breb,” the old man repeated excitedly, his thin, leathery lips revealing a mouthful of craggy teeth.
At the rear of the farmhouse, Ally took cover behind an old station wagon with flat tires, resting in the tall grass. She surveyed the back porch. It looked empty. She shot up and moved low, quickly climbing the rickety stairs until she reached the backdoor.
She peered through the single grimy window to see an empty kitchen with scorched pots and pans in the sink. There was also a box of candles resting on a bench next to a deck of cards, and some old books resting lopsided on a buckled wooden shelf that had been fixed to the wall.
She slowly turned the brass door handle and pushed. Rusted hinges moaned as she gently opened the door and crept inside, moving light on her feet, keeping low in the shadows.
She reached a set of closed cupboards, carefully opening them to find several tins of butterbeans and a basket of vegetables. She could not remember the last time she held a real tomato in her hand, let alone real food. It all seemed so vibrant and delicious. There were also apricots, grapes, and apples piled in another basket. Without hesitation, she scooped as much as she could into her jacket and supply bag.
Once her pouches and rucksack were filled to the brim, she turned to leave, spotting a small fold of money. There was also a crumpled packet of cigarettes and a Zippo-type lighter. She had no idea how much the money was worth in Romanian currency, but she knew they needed it.
Back at the front door, when Matt caught Ally’s shadow flash past the kitchen doorway, he politely waved and thanked the old man for his directions. “Sir, thank you so much for your help. I’ll be on my way now.”
The old man followed him out, yapping excitedly. “Breb este oras bun.”
“Right. Got it,” Matt replied, scanning the darkness ahead for any sign of Ally. “Thanks again.” When he saw her moving low through the tall grass, he quickened his pace. The old man stopped shy of the road and continued earnestly waving Matt off, making him feel even more shitty for stealing from him.
Ambers swirled into the chilly night as Matt and Ally huddled around a small campfire, gorging on their stolen bounty. After regrouping, they had retreated into a heavily wooded area, finding a sheltered spot at the base of a mountain. They were at least half a mile from the main road.
Chewing ferociously on a piece of apple, Matt watched Ally puncture another tin of butterbeans with her small tactical knife and shovel it all into her mouth. “Good?”
“I haven’t tasted anything like this since I was a kid.”
Matt looked down at the vegetables and fruit in his lap, the flames flickering in the icy breeze next to him. “I feel bad stealing from that poor old man. He needed this more than we did.”
Ally finished emptying the can of beans and tossed it into some brush. “If that man had any idea where we came from, or why we’re here, I’m sure he would have gladly offered us that food and money.”
Matt shot Ally a perplexed look.
She caught it and fished out the small fold of money from her jacket, tossing it into his lap. “No idea how much it is, but it should buy us some more supplies once we reach town.”
Matt examined the money before tucking it away like he was embarrassed. “Thanks. Now I feel even worse.”
As he pulled his hand out from his jacket, Ally saw him wince in pain, gently massaging his shoulder while he rotated it. Working her way through another mouthful of food, she moved over next to him. “Let me take a look at it.”
Matt shook his head dismissively. “It’s fine. It’ll be light soon. Let’s try and get some rest before sunrise.”
Ally was already rummaging through her small rucksack. “I wasn’t asking.”
“Ally, it’s freezing.”
“Then we better be quick.”
Matt was quickly finding out his daughter never took no for an answer. She must have inherited her stubbornness from Karen. He remembered thinking how on some days, Karen was the most hard-headed woman he had ever known. That was one reason why he loved her so much. She was a fighter, just like him. Ally was too. The second he peeled off his jacket, his body constricted from the shearing cold. “Oh, shit— hurry, before— oh, shit, that’s cold…”
Ally saw the fresh blood that had seeped through his shirt. “Lift your shirt.”
Matt grimaced and gingerly raised his shirt, his entire torso now shuddering from the chill like he was enduring an electric shock. With his other arm, he reached for his jacket and flung it around his shoulders, clinging to whatever warmth he could muster. “How bad is it?”
Ally gently peeled off the bandage to see Matt’s stab wound had gotten a lot worse since she last saw it. The flesh surrounding the wound had darkened and was beginning to fester. “Oh…”
“What?”
“It’s infected.”
Matt’s breathing began to quicken, a feverish sweat suddenly overtaking him, glazing his forehead. “How can you tell?”
“The flesh around the wound is blackening. That’s a tell-tale sign of Wraith steel. This
type of wound can take years to heal. That’s assuming you don’t die from infection first.”
Matt’s face soured when he saw Ally unsheathe her tactical knife and place the tip of the blade into the crackling fire. “Oh, come on. Really?”
“Be thankful I’m saving your life,” she said, pulling out a small tube of shrink-seal from her field supplies. “I need to burn away the infected flesh, then seal the wound again. Cauterize it properly because whoever dressed this had no idea what they were doing.”
“That’s because the person who dressed it had no idea what Wraith steel was until a few hours earlier. I think she did a fairly good job regardless.”
“If you say so. Lie back.”
Matt lowered himself next to the fire, the significance of the pain he was about to experience was firmly gleaned in his eyes. “This is gonna suck, right?”
“Not as much as dying.” Ally pulled the knife out of the fire to inspect the blade tip. It was now glowing orange. “And where might this mysterious wound bandager be now?”
With his breath misting, Matt’s eyes darkened as he stared up at the towering timbers that seemed to be poking the velvety canopy of night. “I don’t know… hopefully, she’s somewhere safe.” He knew that was most likely not the case. There was a high probability Rowles had either been captured or killed by Cromwell’s reinforcements after he was sent forward in time. In many ways, her sacrifice was the reason he survived that night.
Ally carefully knelt over her father and readied herself. “I won’t lie, this is going to hurt like a bitch. You ready?” She positioned the red-hot blade over Matt’s wound and put a knee on his arm.
The heat of the blade was already causing Matt to grimace. “Nope.” He pinched his eyes shut and waited for what came next.
Ally took a steady breath and then pushed the tip of the glowing blade into Matt’s exposed wound. Flesh began to smolder as Matt bucked like a wild stallion, screaming in agony. When she pushed the tip a little deeper into the wound, he passed out. She waited a few more seconds then removed the blade and sprayed shrink-seal directly into the wound. The translucent foam sealed it almost instantly. She then fished out a clean roll of gauze from her rucksack and proceeded to wrap her father’s shoulder tightly.
When Matt stirred back to consciousness, he saw Ally sitting next to him, idly stoking the fire with a stick as she dumped a handful of twigs and leaves onto it.
Although she had managed to clear some more space around the fire, the melted snow made the earth underneath them damp. She silently cursed herself for not searching for a dry blanket or towel when she had the chance. Having a wet ass made it feel much colder than it already was.
Matt nestled deeper into the thick collar of his jacket, biting through the throbbing pain. His shoulder felt as if someone had left a drill bit inside it. “How long was I out for?” he asked.
“About an hour.”
“You should try and get some sleep, Ally. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
Ally kept her eyes on the flames, her mind occupied with deep thoughts. “It’s already tomorrow. I can’t sleep.” She scooped up a clump of snow and packed it into her mouth, waiting for it to melt.
Matt watched her in silence. Aside from the pop and crackle of fire, the surrounding woods seemed eerily quiet, reminding him of the dark future he had extracted himself from only a few hours earlier.
When Ally caught Matt watching her, she stood and wiped the back of her legs. “This damp ground is freezing my butt off.”
“Thanks for bandaging my wound. It’s a good wrap. I can tell you’ve had some solid field training.”
Ignoring his gratitude, she knelt and grabbed another piece of fruit, examining it before taking a bite. “You were right. My stomach isn’t used to all this real food. I vomited up everything while you were asleep. Now I’m hungry again.”
Matt slowly turned onto his side, careful not to put too much pressure on his shoulder. The warmth of the fiery light gently dancing over his face felt nice. “I never got a chance to ask you what happened to Mom and Dad.”
Ally plunked herself down and continued stoking the fire before answering him. The flames were now roaring. “They died.”
“But how?”
“What difference does it make? They’re dead.”
“They were my parents too, Ally. I just want to know if they suffered or not.”
“The Scourge got them. Of course, they suffered. What kind of question is that?”
Matt watched her take another bite of her apple as she continued watching the flames. His eyes drifted off her as he pondered something uneasily like he was struggling to dredge up the most profound moments of his life from the shadowy recesses of memory. “You know what’s strange about losing people close to you?”
Ally did not respond. She just stared at the fire; her expression unreadable while she sat there chewing her food.
“The day they invaded… when I found your mother… I remember every detail, yet I can’t remember much of what happened after. A lot of it is hazy, almost like a vague dream. I can’t even remember her face all that well.” Matt looked at the ground, smiling cynically at his own contradictions. “The only thing I do remember was about a year after the Wraith retreated, just before I enlisted, I went and visited our home in Harrisonville. Mom and Dad were still looking after you at the community center, sharing bunks beds with hundreds of other people from town who had survived. I don’t really know why I decided to drive back out there. Maybe I was just missing it. But for whatever reason, I began searching for something other than photos and jewelry that belonged to Karen. I wanted to find something more tangible. A small piece of her. Something that unequivocally proved she existed. I must have spent hours there…” Matt paused, steeling himself to continue as painful memories now flooded his mind with intense clarity. “As I was leaving, I passed our bathroom and caught sight of something clung to the side of the basin. I’m not even entirely sure how I noticed it…”
“What was it?” Ally asked, her voice wavering as she fought to hold back tears.
“It was a strand of your mother’s hair. This tiny piece of her had somehow survived the invasion. Who’d have thought, a frickin’ piece of hair… I collapsed underneath that basin and cried like a baby. I just curled into a ball, holding that little strand of hair as tightly as I could in my fist.”
There was a moment of long and heavy silence between them as Ally’s eyes began to thicken with tears. “Why did you tell me that?”
Matt watched as a single snowflake drifted down in front of him and evaporated in the fire’s heat. “I don’t know… I’ve never told that to anyone. Guess I’m just glad that when I found you, you were surrounded by people who cared. People who loved you. Dan and I butted heads, but I could tell he was a good—”
“Dan’s dead.”
“He cared deeply for you. That was obvious.”
They sat in silence for a long beat until a stray tear escaped down Ally’s cheek. She quickly smeared it away, hoping Matt never caught sight of it. “Dan was… he was young and stupid at times, but he was also a complex guy. Had a lot of baggage he needed to sort through. He was a good friend. He was there from the start… I had someone else too. He was with me before you arrived.”
“What happened to him?”
“He was killed the day you showed up.”
Matt frowned and straightened his posture, propping himself on one elbow. “Ally, I don’t think that was by accident.”
Ally shook her head and exhaled with frustration, wiggling her fingers closer to the fire. Despite the warmth, they still felt like frozen mallets. “You can’t pin every single event on Cromwell. He’s not some omniscient God. Liam died during a supply run.”
“Cromwell sent me to you that very same day, right? Only hours after.”
“Supply runs are extremely dangerous. They’re like playing Russian Roulette. There’s no rhyme or reason. It’s the luck of draw whoever mak
es it back.”
“You’re not understanding me. Cromwell knew how distraught you’d be right after losing Liam.”
“Yeah, so?”
“He wanted you to be the one to kill me. He also knew you would have done it without giving it much thought, thinking I was another Infiltrator.”
“That’s why I nearly did kill you.”
“And I don’t blame you. Believe me, I know what it’s like. Cromwell… he sent me a personal tormenter as well. She was identical to your mother.”
Ally shook her head and lowered her eyes. “How could someone be so cruel?”
“Honestly, I think even by Wraith standards, Cromwell has completely lost his mind. If the Combine invaded Earth again using a proxy force, I’m convinced they’d come for him, and not us.”
“Then why don’t they just do that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe my little deal put a temporary hold on their plans.”
“So, you’re the chosen one, huh?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Matt snickered. His expression quickly curdled into concern. “More like an expendable operative. Maybe I’m just another foot-soldier – like what Cromwell used to be. I get the feeling these guys prefer having other people do their dirty work for them.”
“You think you can trust them?”
“I don’t think the idea of trust is something they perceive. You either do what they say, or you don’t, the latter option being an awfully bad idea.”
“What are they?”
“I’m not sure. I got the impression they’re old. Ancient. Possibly immortal.”
“Gods?”
“To some perhaps.”
Ally stared at the fire, absorbing Matt’s words while rubbing her hands together to keep the cold at bay. “Even as a child I never believed we were alone in this universe. I knew there was so much out there we simply did not understand. But knowing what I know now… I wish we were alone. I wish I knew nothing.”
The Revered (The Earth Epsilon Wars, Book 3) Page 11